What am I Doing With My Life
by VstavajSonce
Summary: A collection of one-shots that disgrace my name and all I stand for. Enjoy! :-)
1. Random Pairing: Bohemia x Iowa

Author's Quote: "You knew I was gangster before we started playing." -Wilfred

* * *

"What? But… I'm already here?"

"I know, I know. I'm so sorry. But, Megan got her head stuck between her staircase bars. Everyone's already over there with butter…"

"B-but…" Iowa looked at the two tickets in her hand. "Fine. I'll just stay here. I forgot to bring butter anyway."

"I'll see you later."

"I love you," she said to him softly, and he paused.

"Bye." He hung up, leaving her alone in the giant concert hall.

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me," the man said, emptying his pockets. "I just had it a moment ago…"

The ticket-taker sighed, "Man, go away."

"But I… I just had it. Please, just let me find it… I paid for it, I promise…" The red-haired foreigner kept his search going frantically. A few people behind him in line were getting irritated.

Samantha spoke up, "Excuse me, but… I have an extra ticket."

The man looked genuinely surprised, "A-are you willing to share it?"

"Of course," she nodded, "I've been stood up, anyway."

"Thank you, Miss." The man said, and the two passed the ticket-taker into the concert hall.

* * *

The stage was lit up. A man entered, bow in hand. He sat on the stood placed in the middle of the stage, and the first few notes he played were melancholy and dramatic.

"I've always loved the cello," Samantha whispered to the man beside her, "My boyfriend plays the violin, too. It's all so beautiful."

"I play the cello," the man whispered back, "This cellist is a colleague of mine, actually."

"How wonderful." She smiled kindly.

"You know, if I was your boyfriend," he leaned ver to her, "I would never leave you alone with some stranger."

She blushed, "Well... Thank you..."

* * *

The lights came back on, and they walked outside into the cold air.

"Hey, so," He said, "I never got your name."

"Samantha." She said, and slipped a small piece of paper into his hand.

"Matej." He replied. And as soon as the words escaped his lips, a soft kiss was pressed upon his cheek.

"Call me sometime," her sweet voice said softly.

"Oh… Alright."

"Goodnight, Matej." She turned and exited the sidewalk to her car, smiling.

* * *

Author's quote: "Engage." – Jean-Luc Picard


	2. Zombies: No Wedding For You

Author's Note: I lied. They're not all one-shots. This one has more than one chapter. Also, zombies. Cool, right? :D

* * *

Day 56.

This is the day she was supposed to be married.

September first.

They'd ordered her dress months ahead… She'd have looked so beautiful.

"Are you okay, Sam?" Thomas looked at her, concerned. She nodded, and looked back the dress hanging in the hallway, a familiar ache in her stomach. Looking from her wedding dress to the window overlooking the street, she saw a small horde of the infected. She recognized a few of them. Her neighbor's young daughter—a junior high student.

She choked back tears. She'd thought it'd been eradicated by now. She'd thought the sick would be cured and life would go on. How wrong she was.

They'd burnt through most of their food the first few weeks. Every now and then, Thomas would go out and raid the apartments surrounding theirs. Most of their neighbors had died. Lucky they'd gone shopping before shit hit the fan.

He tossed her a can of ravioli a week from expiration before he dug into a can of fruit cocktail.

"Here, let's split. Dinner and dessert," Samantha said, attempting to smile.

He nodded, "How fortunate."

* * *

"I think you should go with me," Thomas said, the next week, lacing up a pair of hiking boots.

She looked up from the bed, "What?"

"Come with me today."

"I… Don't think that's such a good idea…"

"It doesn't feel right just leaving you here," he said, shoving his sleeves, "Every day they're getting hungrier. More violent. They'll push through that door. They'll get here—and I won't be able to protect you."

"I'm safe here," she said firmly, "You taught me how to protect myself."

He sighed, "You need to know what you're up against. I might not always be here…"

She stood and embraced him, "No, you'll always be here."

He patted her hair comfortingly, "Yes. But I need you to be with me at all times. I'll take care of you."

"I'll go with you," she said, "But not too far…"

* * *

"Step quietly," Thomas said, his white hair looking grimy in the dark hallway. Broken glass from windows and bottles littered the ground. Every few feet were drops of blood, and it reeked of rotting corpses and waste.

Samantha cupped her hand over her mouth to keep from gagging. It was the first time she'd been outside her apartment in over a month. She hadn't, since it'd gotten worse.

Week two, she recalled, was when the power went out. When she was almost got stabbed at the supermarket trying to buy first aid. She hadn't left since.

"Are you alright?" He asked her, doubling back and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm… fine," she promised, looking at the half-eaten, rotting corpse of her landlord at the end of the hallway. She was silently thankful for the fact he'd not risen from death.

"You only have to make it to the convenience store," he whispered to her, his arms around her shoulder, "It's really not that far."

"We're… Going _out there_?" She asked incredulously, "We'll get eaten alive!"

"We're going out the back—the alley's always clear. Just…" he gave her a look as if she was a small, clumsy child, "keep on your toes. Follow me. Don't wander."

She nodded, swallowing.

"And do e_verything _I say."

She nodded again.

"Be extra careful going down the stairs."

She kissed him on the cheek, "Don't die."

"I promise."

* * *

The back alley, which on a normal day would have reeked of garbage and human waste, smelled considerably better than the rotting corpses in the apartment building. What little garbage left in the dumpsters was completely liquefied, and a various assortment of litter was carelessly strewn about their feet.

Still, the debris in the alley was a level up from the junk scattered about the hallway outside her home.

The challenge in getting to the store was avoiding the cars. Many, Thomas had said, were still alarmed, and then admitted he'd seen a survivor or two dead because of carelessness.

She'd never heard him speak of this. He'd not once mentioned other survivors. She dared not to ask him if he'd tried to help of not—her heart wouldn't be able to handle it.

* * *

The convenience store was made mostly of broken glass and graphitized brick walls. But still, in the back stock room, there were a few, mostly-raided boxes of canned goods. A fallen, dented, but still intact first aid kit lay underneath a metal shelf. Iowa stuffed as much as she could into her backpack, pleased with their haul, trying hard not to think of what they would do when this all ran out.

"Can we go back, now?"" She asked her fiancée hesitantly, "I think this is all…"

He nodded, "Is your pack too heavy? We can trade."

She shook her head and walked to the front of the store, "I'm all right—I can manage."

"If you say so," he agreed, and, crowbar in hand—Samantha had an old bat from Thomas' high school baseball days—the exited back the streets.

* * *

"Oh, my god." She whispered, as she set foot in her apartment. They both fell silent however, as they took in what had happened.

Raiders. It was the only thing she could think of. Zombies wouldn't take all her food and medicine. They would bash in her television and windows. They wouldn't slash her wedding dress to ribbons.

She succumbed to tears, then. She collapsed on the ground, a shard of broken window dug into her knee. She didn't care. What was there to care about anymore? That dress had been her last hope of a return to normalcy.

"I can't believe… We're so lucky you weren't here." He came to his knees before her, "It's not safe here anymore. They could come back…" He held out a torn picture—them, arm-in-arm at a local festival with her friend Kathryn. But, Samantha'd been torn out. She sobbed.

"We have to stay."

"We have to go." He insisted, making her rise to her feet.

"Go where?"

"Kathryn, she left to find Megan, right? We can go find them, figure what we're doing from then on, maybe find a port city and leave on boat…"

"What if we don't find them?"

"We will," he promised, "We will."

* * *

The parking garage was mostly full. Cars of all shapes and sizes and makes were neat and untouched in the catacombs.

"Should we take a bigger one?" Samantha asked.

"Alarms," he mumbled, pulling her closer. "This place is a minefield."

Their car was an old Toyota—they hardly used it, as Samantha worked from home and Thomas took taxies to and fro. Samantha was looking at an old, ripped map that Kathryn had left with her. Red dots marked every place she meant to stop, and Chicago lay circled. Megan…

Thomas had let go of her shoulder as he packed their thing into the trunk. Samantha, who happened to be quite enthralled with the map, didn't notice, and walked straight into the Sedan parked beside their car.

The alarm blared, and she immediately heard growling. She wanted to scream. She dove into the passenger's side of the car and locked her door, hands over her ears. She was crying again.

Thomas slammed the trunk shut just as the first of the horde approached. He swung around, crowbar in hand, embedding it deep into the skull of what used to be a young woman. He crashed into his seat, turned the car on, and peeled out.

Since the horde was already notified of their position, he didn't bother to avoid a little bumper-to bumper action as he left. While Samantha cried, Thomas found himself enjoying a nice game of bowling. He'd never played as the ball before.

* * *

Author's Quote: "Lay off the wee baby Seamus, would ya'? His life is hard enough as it is." - Pam


	3. Star's Union: Slave

Author's Quote: "Oh, my." –George Takei

* * *

Why is there an Illinoisan ship in the Atlantic Galaxy? This is the only thought that ran through Captain Thomas Beilschmidt's head.

"Captain's Log. Stardate: 3045. We've stumbled upon the ruins of an Illinoisan ship in the Atlantic Galaxy. The Base had been notified. The ship looks to be around 400 years old, and abandoned. It's really quite strange. The only type that even looks similar is the ancient energy tanks used to export east of the Atlantic Galaxy. We're sending in some crew members to explore later today. The question remains: Why is it _here_?"

* * *

"Who are you sending?" Top Engineer Samantha asked, tying her curly hard hair into a French braid. They were on the top deck, nearing the hull of the ship.

"Some of the more willing members of the crew," Thomas replied, stepping away from her. "The usual ones."

She gave him a pained look, "Don't put my brother in any danger."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Jared Jones was the younger brother of Samantha. He was a cheerful, optimistic kind f boy. He was still very hopeful for his future, and always willing to risk his life in the name of exploration. In truth, his elder sister grew sick to her stomach at the idea of him being in any sort of danger.

* * *

"And you're only going to stay for a few hours. We'll be teleporting you back as soon as the three hour mark hits."

He nodded, "Unless we send news otherwise, right?"

"No," she shook her head vehemently, straightening his collar, "You're coming back no matter what."

He gaped at her, "That's rather unfair."

"I don't care! You're only twenty," she reminded him, "And I'm your senior officer. And we have the captains orders to retrieve you, and the rest of them if they so choose, at the three hour mark!"

He sighed, swatting her hands away as she tried to fix his hair, "Whatever. I'm fine on my own."

"Don't do anything stupid," she said, and exited to the lower decks.

* * *

Jared was accompanied by three others: a beautiful woman named Lisette Janssen (from the newly founded planet of Europa), and two British boys (from the floating city of Britain near the edge of the Atlantic Galaxy: they were from decks two and thirteen) named Rhys Adda and Edmund Kirkland.

None of the three spoke to each other, though Edmund kept making faces at Rhys. As they were teleported onto what seemed to be the hull of the ship, Lisette let out a pained scream.

Her foot had been caught in a small hole in the floor. The jagged, rusty edges had shown it had been worn by time.

"Are you alright?" Jared rushed to help her. Rhys was the only medic sent—of course, he wasn't very high up in the ranks, just a little fist aid was the limit of his expertise.

"I'd be fine if I could just get my foot back," she said, biting her lip.

"We could use this," Edmund pulled out his phaser from his belt.

"Or, you could cut my foot off," Lisette added sarcastically.

"Your aim is awful," Rhys noted.

"Let me do it," Jared offered, pulling out his own phaser.

"Are you sure?" Edmund asked, "Do you think you can?"

"More than you," Rhys snorted.

"Do you trust me to?" Jared asked Lisette. She nodded.

"More so than him. At least I was in training with you."

Jared had not remembered seeing her at all at the Academy, but said nothing.

"Right, so. Set it to burn." Lisette said calmly, though she winced with pain. Blood was dripping down her foot and onto the floor below. Every time she moved in the slightest, the metal dug deeper into her flesh. Jared quite respected her pain tolerance, then. She was tough.

He changed to setting as she instructed him, and then pulled the trigger. A fine, pressed line, a faint red light appeared, searing the metal in as straight a line as Jared could hold. He burnt her pant leg trying to release her foot, but he managed to get her free.

"Rhys, call up to the medics," Jared instructed the older man, "They'll get word to the transporters. They'll take you both back to the ship."

"No," Rhys shook his head, "I'll go with you."

Jared sighed, "And leave an injured woman alone in an unfamiliar ship? I suppose chivalry is dead."

"Fine. Then I'll stay, but I won't go back to the ship. There's no reason to."

"We're going on ahead," Edmund argued, "You'll get lost if you go on your own."

Rhys frowned and looked to Lisette, who had ripped off a bit of her pant leg to wrap around her wounds. "I guess we're stuck together."

* * *

It was two hours into the investigation of the ship. Jared and Edmund still had little clue why the ship was there—and who'd ever been on it. All files stored on the ship's computer were corrupted, and every paper file had disintegrated.

They'd returned to the hull of the ship, and were ready to call back up to the Captain to transport them, when they heard footsteps from behind.

"Havin' fun?" When Jared turned around, he was a beautiful, short haired girl. The green eyes flared. Illinoisan. She could—

It must have been hours, because when he awoke, he was sore. Strapped to what must have once been the captain's chair, he gazed dazedly around the room. No sign of Edmund. His stomach clenched. What had that woman done to him?!

"Oh," a pleasant voice said, "You're awake!"

"Of course I am," he answered gruffly, trying to find the person who'd spoke. She appeared before his eyes in an instant. Oh. She was… Dangerous.

Dangerous was the only word he could remember from his studies on foreign races. The Illinoisans could control with their eyes. The Alaskans… They could teleport! She could reach his ship! He had to warn them! But… how?

The Alaskan girl was pretty, as well as the Illinoisan. She was slender and willowy. Very tall. Well past six-foot. Her hair was practically silver, and in shined in the dim light produced by the fractured ceiling. She smiled kindly at him.

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"So you are hungry!"

"No, I'm not."

"But you said…" The girl looked away. She called out in a harsh tongue down the hallway—the door had been broken down long ago.

A figure approached. But it so very small. At first, Jared thought it a child. But he then realized it was a grown man. From the Ohioan Planet to the east of the Illinoisan territory. The small grouping of planets—it consisted of about ten planets with around forty moons between them all—had been named after what was once states in a large country called the United States of America… On Earth, the base of humanity—the race most Star's Union members were a part of.

Of course, Earth had been rendered useless long ago. When the water ran out, they'd moved out. To moons of distant planets. To floating cities like the one Edmund and Rhys were from. And to a grouping of planets and moons that equaled what used to be home to many humans. They were inhabited by different races, of course, but the humans dominated them. Renamed them, erased their cultures.

Then the rebellion happened. And the State-Planets had regained control of themselves. Their culture was still lost for the most part, but they made a living as cheap labor. Or pirates.

"Pirates!" Jared shouted, now knowing what they wanted, "I won't let you get my ship!"

"Oh?" The small man tilted his head, "How so?"

Jared shook his head, raging, "Just leave them alone!"

The small man laughed. He was almost half the height of the giantess with silver hair. A foot or two shorter than the Illinoisan.

"How many of them are you?" Jared demanded.

"On this ship?" The black-haired an asked, "Or in my race?"

Jared stayed silent.

"Well. Too many for just you to handle, in both cases." The small man laughed again, a tousled Jared's hair. The blonde tried to bite him as he did.

"You're like an angry pet," he mumbled, then went behind Jared's back.

"I can fix that." He said, pulling Jared's head up by his hair.

"Wait!" The brunette woman ran up the hallway, "Don't kill him!"

"What?"

"Don't kill him!" She demanded, sneering at what seemed to be the trio's leader. "I want him as a slave."

"What?" Jared spat, "I'd never!"

"Or you die," the silver-haired woman whispered, suddenly close to his ear. "She's really quite nice. I promise."

"If I do, will you leave my ship alone?"

"Hm." The Illinoisan gave it a thought, "No. We'll raid your ship and send them on their way. But," she leaned over him, "We won't kill them."

"And my partner?" Jared whispered coarsely, Where is he?"

"Safe." The man behind him said.

"Is his safety also guaranteed?" He questioned desperately.

"He shall be returned unharmed. But you," her voice was sickly sweet with poison, "Are mine forever."

* * *

Author's Quote: "Oh, boy." –Scott Bakula


	4. Zombies: No Grandpa For You

Author's Quote: "You bitch!" -Molly Weasley

* * *

Day 60

"Where's the next stop?" Thomas slowed the car down to the side of the road and stopped.

"A few miles north, still."

"Alright," he noted it, and then started to drive once more.

"This is our third stop, and… We've not found her at all… What if—"

"What if she left six weeks before us? Well, she did. Calm down, Samantha, we'll find them." One hand left the wheel and found hers. He gave it a comforting squeeze before it returned to the wheel.

* * *

"This is it," she mumbled, as he parked the car.

"Right. Prepare for a fight, then." The walked slowly, weapons in hand. From the road a distance, Samantha could make out a walking figure. She hoped it was a survivor, like herself and Thomas, but knew differently.

Thomas knocked heavily on the door. Probably loud enough for the zombie down the road to hear. One zombie wouldn't be a problem. The problem would only occur if there was a horde inside.

And Samantha felt like that is exactly what was inside. Her best friend and her cousin lying there, half-eaten and mangled, with the culprits still hungry inside. Tears sprung up in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Thomas asked, for what seemed like the umpteenth time since they'd left their apartment.

She nodded, shaking away her tears, "I'll do better when we're safe."

The door opened a crack, and a shotgun barrel was shoved into Samantha's chest, "Are you bitten?" A gruff voice questioned her.

"No!" She insisted, "No, no! We've not come into contact with any zombies since Des Moines."

"From the city?" The voice questioned, and the gun retracted, "Is there anyone left there?"

"The raiders who trashed our apartment," Thomas sneered, "We might've been the only ones to get out safely, for all we know."

* * *

"People come by every week or so from either direction, stop here." The door opened, revealing a handsome, young man with innocent blue eyes and grimy black hair. "Come inside—Everett will get you otherwise."

"What?"

"It's the name I gave that zombie out on the road."

"You named it?"

"Of course."

"Why haven't you killed it?"

"Why would I? It has no arms—someone thought they were being funny. Left him here with no jaw or arms… Can't infect people, you know, now. Can't even eat."

Thomas and his fiancée were speechless. Were they leaving that thing to starve?

"So, anyway." The black haired man went out of the main room—for it used to be a gas station, and he went to the stockroom—and returned with a gallon jar of water. "You two'll be leaving soon, won't you? Don't dehydrate," He hopped up to the counter and began inspecting his fingernails like a young girl.

"How many people, exactly, have come through here?"

"A lot," he replied to her, with a smile, "A girl who mentioned you might come by, in fact. And that I should give you water."

"Kathryn?"

"The very same," he noted, as he fiddled with his jacket zipper. She wondered absently why he always had to have his hands busy. "Anyway—she gave me this," he pulled out the same map that Samantha had, except it had more dots. Dots after Chicago, though it was still circled.

"So, she's heading for Columbus?"

He nodded, the mention of The Ohioan city seeming to douse his spirits.

"Are you from there?" She asked.

"Just outside the city," he nodded. "I went to school there."

"Then," Thomas chimed into their conversation, "Why are you here?"

"My Gram died," he answered coldly, "I was taking care of my Granddad until the new term started."

"Where is he, then?" Thomas demanded, looking over his shoulder.

"Out back. With a bullet in his skull."

"Oh," Samantha's hands clapped over her mouth, "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," he said, "I'd just thought I'd be back with my parents by now."

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"How long have you been alone?"

"About… a month. When Kathryn came by, he was still… But just after she left… Never mind." His face hardened, "I missed my chance to go. I'm just a pit stop now."

"Come with us," Samantha said quietly, "We could always use more hands…"

Thomas' neck vein throbbed in irritation, "I _suppose_…"

"Only to Columbus," he promised, taking Samantha's hands on his, "I just need to get to my parents."

"Of course," she agreed, "Only to Columbus."

* * *

Author's Note: Another zombie chapter. I couldn't stay away. HahahahafuckyouEthanI'mmadowhatIwantahahahaha.


	5. Random Pairing: MWallonia x Derbyshire

Author's Quote: "Some people just have no careness or respects." –Some girl I know

* * *

She was running late. Oh, she hadn't meant to—she'd been yelled at by her boss for signing for the wrong packages and had run late visiting her father in the hospital. Nothing seemed to be going right that day. And what should she expect?

As soon as she set foot in the building, she knew something was wrong. Not a soul in sight. No children, no teachers. Then, she heard shouting. Sensing something was wrong, she rushed outside to the back of the school to see what it was.

A large group of children—it must have been every child in the elementary—were abusing the playground equipment. An attractive male teacher was showing children how to make daisy chains, and some older children were playing freeze tag unsupervised.

But her baby brother, Edmund, was nowhere in sight.

"Eddie?"

No response. Not one child turned their head. She decided to question the teacher, then.

"Excuse me." She said, and he didn't pay any attention.

"Excuse me!"

"What?" He jumped and looked at her, "What do you need, miss?"

"My brother."

"Ah… Which one is he?"

"Edmund."

"Ah… Which one is that?"

"You don't know your students?" She scoffed incredulously.

"I, uh, normally don't work here, actually." He laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, "B-but don't think I'm just some random pervert! I promise I'm not… I'm just covering for my friend…"

"Uh-huh. Right. Well, where's my brother? I need to get home."

"He's probably over on the play stuff over there, miss" he pointed to the swings and monkey bars, which were covered by every inch with children.

"Okay. Thanks anyway."

* * *

Upon closer inspection, her brother was nowhere to be found, and she was getting more worried, and more irritated by the minute. She returned to the daisy-chain man and spoke her problems.

"Do you want some help, then?"

"Yes. Find him." She scowled at this unprofessional man. He might as well have gotten his friend fired, losing kids like that.

"Hey, Mary, can you watch these guys for a minute?"

"Yeah, love. Sure." The plump old woman settled down near the daisy-chain children, her flock following her and joining.

* * *

They'd circled the school twice and there was still no sign of him. Evelyn was close to tears. "Where the Hell is he?"

"He has to be around somewhere."

"What if he got kidnapped? Oh, god…"

"I promise you that didn't happen."

"How can you even be so sure? You weren't even watching him!"

"Do you think that fence does nothing? The kids are gated in. How old is your brother, anyway? Five? He can't climb that. It's six feet high."

"I-I suppose so…" She frowned, "But then, where is he?"

"I don't know," the man sighed, "Let's keep looking."

"I can't believe you…Just how can you lose a kid!?

"There are a lot of kids here I guess that-"

"You guess _what_!? Was he not important enough to watch!? You are so irresponsible!"

"Please, Miss, just calm down."

"Stop that! My name is Evelyn, not 'Miss'. Geez."

"Alright, Evelyn," The green-eyed fill-in replied, "My name's Jean-Luc."

"We should continue our search. He could be anywhere."

* * *

"Edmund!" Evelyn dove at her little brother, "You naughty boy! Where were you?! We searched for an hour!"

"I was hiding," the boy said stubbornly, "Mum and Dad said I can't keep him…"

"Keep who?" Evelyn tilted her head in question.

"Sprinkles," he answered, and pulled an orange kitten from behind him.

"We can't keep pets at the apartment, Eddie. You know that," she sighed, "You have to leave him here."

"No!" Edmund jerked away from his sister, "He gets cold at night here! A-And he's scared of the dark… He _needs_ me."

"You know the rules, Eddie. We can't keep him even if we wanted."

"But I _do_ want him!"

"I have an idea," Jean-Luc said.

"What's that?" Evelyn turned to him.

"Well if Eddie can't keep the cat, perhaps I could keep it for him. That way he will know that Sprinkles is safe, he can visit him anytime he wants."

"That's nice and all, but I don't think that I want my brother at your house all the time. And, you lost him. So I _know _I can't trust you with him."

"He wouldn't come _alone_; he would be accompanied, of course, by his lovely big sister."

"Please, Evie!" Eddie pleaded

"Well, I suppose that's okay." Evelyn blushed. "But I'm only going for Eddie!"

"Of course."


End file.
